Last night we went out and celebrated our anniversary so I woke late this morning, somewhat the worse for wear. Right now I'm sitting around eating Carl's Jr hash browns and a sausage and egg sandwich. The cure for most ailments, I think we'd all agree.
When we got home last night my wife took over the music playlist. I was glad for that to happen; I don't want to impose my tastes and preferences on the house and I worry that I do that more than is right. On the other hand, someone has to put on music and usually she doesn't want to. Last night she did. And it was something.
I believe the playlist went something like this: Air Supply (1 song), Styx (1 song), 50 Cent (4 or 5 songs), Kenny Rogers (1 song), Stevie Nicks (5 songs), George Strait (60 songs. Well no, but it felt like it). Oh, and there was some Juice Newton in there too. ("Playing with the Queen of Hearts.") Maybe, also, some Bread. (She loves Bread. Really.) It was really something. I harass my wife about her love for (bad) music of the late 70s and early 80s, and last night it was really in effect. I think it all started because we were debating who originally wrote the song "Angel of the Morning." That lead to a wikipedia moment (turns out it was actually WRITTEN by Angelina Jolie's uncle, a songwriter no one has heard of, in 1968, but it's been performed by a bunch of people, including the aforementioned Juice Newton) which lead to the wife deciding to see if she had Juice Newton on her computer, which, of course, she did. It was a little like being in a roller rink in 1980, with the 50 Cent thrown in just as a break.
Of course the Stevie Nicks was outstanding. ("Just like a white-wing dove...." Yes!) Her voice never ceases to astonish me. She could stand up there and sing about getting a haircut and it'd be worth listening to. (Especially if it were a really wild haircut. Like, maybe, she got dreadlocks?). I hadn't heard most of the George Strait, and though I generally liked the songs, they were pretty mournful. (Gist of every George Strait song: I'm alone, I'm drinking, you're not here. And, sometimes, I'm on the road. Or you're on the road. Someone's on the road, though, and I'm drinking. Alone. And, I'm old and lonely. And alone. And drinking. It's not necessarily festive 'celebrate our years of love together' music.)
Anyway, a good time was had by all. Tonight we're meeting some friends of hers from work at a Soul Food restaurant in North Hollywood. Should be interesting.